


we'll take our time, just living our lives

by Sharkchimedes



Category: The Legend of Prince Valiant (Cartoon)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, gentle canon alteration, uhhh there Is a brief sex joke, whats historical accuracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:50:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkchimedes/pseuds/Sharkchimedes
Summary: Gawain gets back early from Greystone and gets ribbed a bit for hiding his injury, but ends up having a nice evening after all.





	we'll take our time, just living our lives

**Author's Note:**

> hey so! the prince valiant cartoon was my first love and i still adore it to this day and it means a lot to me, and i just finished rewatching it so i figured id write something for my first love.

Bryant and Gawain, by nature of being two of the best and most accomplished knights who resided within Camelot, were quartered in one of the quieter, more roomy bits of the castle. Their block was home to Kay, who was away the vast majority of the time from the round table, and the now long vacated quarters of Morded.

No one had ever been sure what had happened to him, but the eldest knights had their ideas.

(Gawain was happy to see those quarters stay empty forever, and privately rather proud that now that the boor was gone, he could claim to have been railed into silence in Modred's bed.

Not that he'd tell anyone else that. Bryant would have a fit.)

He enjoyed the thrill of combat, but as he had told Valiant nearly a year ago, no one had any idea how much he cared for things such as home and family.

And now, it was all he could think about. The thought of the festivities and celebration that would ensue as soon as Valiant returned from his triumph not only in Greystone, but in Thule as well, was exhausting. 

He was absolutely proud of the boy- that was a fact and he would dare anyone to question it. But he had also spent the last month damp and bruised in more ways than one. His ribs still twinged as the ride back into Camelot dipped and rose with the cobbles beneath the wheels. At least autumn was still clinging to Camelot now- crossing the mountains in winter was insanity, and would make his ribs feel cracked anew besides.

And no matter the pride he had in the boy, having been named the head of the campaign only to spend it in agony in a cart, from an injury given by his own blasted animal no less, hurt near as dearly as the wound itself.

It wasn't very "magnificent" of him, that was for certain, and he could already imagine the prods and teasing the other knights would unleash at the parties that were sure to pick up as soon as _anyone_ from the Greystone campaign returned.

That was why he had come back a day's ride early, in fact: to lick his wounded pride in private and then be ready to face the preparations that followed.

Well, he thought as he watched the cart enter into one of the inner courtyards, one of the reasons.

The other was standing by Arthur at the top of the stairs, arms crossed and eyeing him as the driver pulled alongside the steps. That blasted Merlin must've told him that it was more than a wayward arrow that spooked his horse in Greystone that caused his injury.

At least he had the constitution to jump from the cart and walk up the stairs without use of a squire or his sword. He ignored the twinge of protest it brought from his side and went up to meet the king and Bryant. 

"Sire." Gawain made the appropriate bow and nodded to Arthur. The king seemed to be in a good mood- no surprise, given that the news had been in Camelot for several weeks, and Gawain's arrival heralded the very soon return of the rest of the victorious party.

"Sir Gawain." Arthur greeted, smiling. "We are glad to see you safely returned to Camelot."

Gawain glanced at Bryant, who was smiling. He also had the "you're in trouble" look in his eye. Gawain supposed he deserved that; he had left without mentioning that he was injured. Had it been the other way around, he would have likely tried to follow Bryant to force him to rest.

Gawain had the feeling that he was going to be hearing about that for a while. 

"Tell me, Sir Gawain, are you ready to report on the happenings at Greystone?" The sire asked. Gawain was tempted to look to Bryant in a plea for help, but he wasn’t that far gone yet. 

That didn’t mean, however, that he wasn’t going to look for a way out of it. King and country could at least wait until Merlin returned, surely?

"Arthur, I'm _tired._ " Gawain said, repeating the same words he'd told him before their mission to the old northern wall the winter prior. Then, he'd still had to go north- and he wasn't going to say that was a bad thing. But now, he knew Valiant and Merlin would return soon to give a report, and there was no threat real or proposed. 

Arthur gave him a sympathetic look, and nodded. "Very well, Gawain. Go and rest- you have earned it."

Gawain gave a grateful bow, and moved around Arthur to take the rest of the stairs up into the castle itself. Bryant joined him, and they passed under the final arched doorway to reach the first hall together. Gawain sighed, letting his posture slip once they were away from the king.

“And how _is_ your side?” Bryant looked him over as they followed the length of the hall, their path turning a few times as they got farther from the busy front halls and into the quieter, smaller bits of the castle.

“Better.” Gawain admitted. “Merlin found me out right away. If I didn’t know better, I’d think my attendant that day had told him.”

“You should have told him regardless.” Bryant said, raising an eyebrow.

Gawain winced. That was true, and he _certainly_ regretted not having gone to Merlin first- he might not still have an ache now. “I know- he let me have it in that cold, restrained way. It was miserable.” 

“Well, if he did,” Bryant patted his shoulder, letting the matter drop. “Just see Merlin next time.”

They took the servants passages back to the upper knight's hall from there. Perhaps it wasn't proper, but Gawain was too tired to care. He could feel what strength he had been relying on through the mountains back from Greystone fading as they walked. All he wanted was to strip down to his nightclothes and curl up in bed. It wouldn't be the first time they had gone back this way anyhow, and the squires and servants simply greeted them or kept walking on their own errands.

Gawain’s own room didn’t appeal to him- for one, as soon as the rest of the company returned, the whole castle would be abuzz with squires moving luggage from the supply wagons back into the quarters of whoever owned it, and he had no desire to be woken early by trunks being unpacked around him.

For another, he had just returned from a war, after all. He wanted to spend time with his husband. 

To his credit, Bryant’s disappointment over the omission of injury didn’t return when Gawain changed into his night clothes and had to check his side. The bruising was starting to fade, now, and thankfully he didn’t have to use anymore of Merlin’s poultice. Once he had put his traveling clothes away to be cleaned later, he unceremoniously dropped onto the bed and spread himself out. “Ah, now _this_ I missed. I will never claim to enjoy camp cots. Greystone wasn’t much better.” He shifted to watch Bryant while he changed.

The other knight was glancing over at him while he changed into his own nightclothes, and was smiling. “If you truly missed your bed, you could go back to your _own,_ seeing as it wasn’t the company you missed.”

“Aww, Bryant, you wound me.” He feigned an injury and moved to make room when Bryant came over and carefully got into bed.

After a minute of careful shifting, Bryant reached over and pulled Gawain closer, being careful not to wrap his arms around the part of Gawain’s side that was still bruised. 

"You know, Bryant, it's a shock maidens aren't throwing themselves into the comfort of your arms." Gawain said, shifting a little as he got more comfortable. Bryant was warm, and he smelled like home, which after weeks of sea and mountain air, was perfect. 

"Quite." Bryant agreed, pressing a gentle kiss into Gawain's hair. “It might have something to do with the bird perched on my shoulder that crows at anyone who tries.” 

Gawain snorted, adjusting his head so that he could hide his face in the crook of Bryant’s nest. “Perhaps.” He couldn’t say he regretted any of it were it true. He suppressed a smile when he felt the edge of Bryant’s beard tickle the top of his ears.

“I think I had enough of maidens in my youth anyway.” Bryant hummed.

Gawain let his eyes slip shut, pressing his cheek to Bryant's chest and listening to the _thump thump_ beat of his heart. Greystone had a rhythm, but it was that of the ocean crashing against the cliffs that rose and shifted with the tides. It took getting used to, and had never been relaxing for Gawain- the water was nice, but then he’d grown up locked away from the sea. 

Bryant’s heart was comforting and the feel of it’s thrum and the sound in his ears was that of home. Gawain felt one of Bryant’s hands shift from his back up into his hair and he hummed, pressing himself closer.

He felt his muscles go lax, and he drifted off to sleep. 


End file.
